Boots on the ground I’m pounding.
Sand and tossing rocks into the battle sounding,
Then, out of nowhere *Kaplowey* something silly.
Final straws, they’ve got me reeling.
Each one and done, tendrils dangling from the belly,
a Man-of-War above me, trying to pick me off again.
Caught up in a feeling and I’m dealing.
Moving and wrestling me.
This battle with destiny doesn’t feel appealing.
When you’re in crown deep.
It’s moving me, rolling me endlessly.
Until The End’s got its hands on me.
Standing in the rain,
Dripping in the pain,
Standing in the thunder of reality.
A lone tree. Sinking… Sinking deeper.
The trek is getting steeper.
And it’s in those moments you come calling me.
A live-saving insight or a death devoted parasite.
A final blow I’m set on dodging.
Instead of running, I am standing.
I’m looking toward the light,
facing this internal sunshine
and letting it alone guide me.